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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25493740">Avoiding the Philosopher's Stone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunder_the_Wolf/pseuds/Thunder_the_Wolf'>Thunder_the_Wolf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Harry Potter Has a Different Name, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Harry has strange dreams, everything is not what it seems, some of it might be but you don't know what</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:33:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25493740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunder_the_Wolf/pseuds/Thunder_the_Wolf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wakes up one morning a week before Dudley’s birthday after a hard day of cleaning the house in preparation for that. Plagued by dreams of going to a place he’s never heard of and doing things he’s never even dreamed, he leaves the house to go for a walk. That, among other things, is the start of how his life changed forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was originally going to be a self-insert where the author woke up as Harry Potter a week or so before Dudley’s birthday and had to play out the events of the books. Unfortunately, the mechanics of being male are unknown to said author and writing the story as-is sent me into a spiral of questioning my gender spurred on by preexisting issues with body image. So I changed the concept.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. Their nephew would tell you otherwise. Normal people didn’t wake up in a just-big-enough space that he could barely turn around in as he got older. Lately, it felt like he couldn’t even fit in the cupboard.  Perhaps it only worked because he was so skinny. He knew for a fact that Dudley would never fit in this small space. Not only would the bigger boy struggle to get himself in, but he’d also be claustrophobic in under a minute! According to the librarian, it meant that someone was scared of small spaces. Harry couldn’t quite afford to be scared of small spaces since he spent most of his time in a cupboard, but he could imagine that Dudley, Aunt Petunia, and Uncle Vernon wouldn’t last here. </p><p>It was early in the morning after a day of cleaning to get ready for Dudley’s birth-week. Two weeks in advance. Aunt Petunia had never really done this before, so it was safe to say that Harry was stunned by the turn of events. Cleaning was never doled out as a punishment, it was just something he had to do because the Dursleys sure wouldn’t. Now cooking was definitely a punishment. Especially since he often wasn’t allowed to eat what he made for the Dursleys. If he wanted food, he would have to stand at the stove hours before the main meal was to be prepared and it was nowhere near as good as anything he made for the Dursleys. They insisted on that. </p><p>It was early in the morning after a day of cleaning and Harry. Could. Not. Sleep. He was sore and his head hurt and the fumes from the cleaning products had followed him into the cupboard, making him feel extremely nauseous. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but he hadn’t been able to sleep that well before tonight either. You see, he’d been having strange dreams over the past month now about people who could do amazing things. Fly, make things move, make things appear out of thin air, or bring something to them… in one set of dreams, he could talk to snakes. In another, an adult crumbled to dust at his mere touch. The whole thing was right out of a fairytale and it happened at a place called named after a pig with acne! So between the strange dreams and being sore after cleaning, it was safe to say he wouldn’t be doing much sleeping. He tossed and turned but couldn’t find any position to lessen the aches or his headache or the smell. So he quietly pushed open the door to the cupboard. Thankfully, Aunt Petunia only locked it when he was in trouble. So he was able to creep out forward and head for the door. He passed the kitchen, still sparkling clean because no one had been in it since he left a few hours ago. The wooden table and chairs tucked in the corner had been a struggle to move. Thankfully, he didn’t have to sweep behind the refrigerator on the opposite wall. Harry opened the front door, thankful that the Dursleys had no dog like Aunt Marge did that would wake everyone up at the slightest movement. He locked the bottom lock and walked out of the house. </p><p>It was summer, hot in a way that was average for Little Whinging and muggy at that. Harry stood in the center of the sidewalk for a few moments, taking in the surreality of being out this late. Alone with only the calm night to prove that he wasn’t supposed to be outside. Eventually, he figured he should find somewhere else to be. No one was really out at this time of night but the Dursleys could have heard the door open and come to investigate. Harry chose to turn left and started jogging. There was a crosswalk not long after that and he chose to go straight. It was better than turning since it gave him less of a chance to circle the block. </p><p>Going straight turned out to be the better option, so Harry kept going until houses turned into buildings. The library was a few blocks away from the Dursleys. Closed, of course, for this time of night. </p><p>Something told him that standing out in the open wasn’t the best idea, even if no one was around. He listened to his instincts and jogged past the library.</p><p>He kept going until he found an all-hours store. Aldi’s was nearby, though the Dursleys preferred more upscale places. There had to be a bench or something around here… when he had no luck, he went into the store. Maybe if he looked pitiful enough, someone would get him something. Or he could find some work to do. Everyone needed someone to clean and he was pretty good at that. Some words were painted on the wall to his right when he walked in. No one was bagging their groceries but the entrance and the exit were the same doors, so it made sense for the counter and the sign to be there: </p><p>
  <strong>THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING AT ALDI'S IN LITTLE WHINGING! </strong>
</p><p>The sign proclaimed in navy blue block letters. </p><p>Harry looked around for a bit but no one was really there. He figured the staff must have their own place and wouldn’t really notice of he sat by the chips for a maybe a minute or two. </p><p>“Hey!” Someone called, immediately proving him wrong. “I know you, you’re the Dursley boy.” </p><p>Harry turned, confused, to find one of the neighbors with a trolley full of groceries. </p><p>“What are you doing out at this time of night?” The older man asked. </p><p>“Hello, Mr. Jacobs. Couldn’t sleep.” </p><p>“And I bet your aunt and uncle don’t know you’re out here… or care, really. Feel like doing Melanie’s gardening tomorrow?” </p><p>Melanie Baker lived across the street from the Jacobs family. Mr. Jacobs’ son was the one to stop all games of Harry Hunting that Dudley and his gang tried to play. </p><p>“I’ll have to see, sir. I did some cleaning earlier so I might not be in the best shape for gardening tomorrow.” Harry admitted, hoping it wouldn’t backfire. </p><p>“Yeah, I saw your limping when you came in here. Go pick out a few things you like and add them to the trolley, you must be half-starved.” </p><p>“The clothes are pretty big, Mr. Jacobs.” Harry offered defensively. He wasn’t that small. </p><p>“I’m sure they are, and that’s not exactly a point in Vernon’s favor.” Mr. Jacobs scoffed. “Go on, then. Two snacks and a drink, maybe.” </p><p>Harry nodded his thanks and bolted through the aisles. He had to choose carefully because the longer he was outside the more he realized that he wouldn’t be able to go back in. He settled for a large bag of crisps, a cola the size of his hand, and a chewy the length of his forearm. Mr. Jacobs took them with a knowing smile and rang them up with no problem. </p><p>“Thank you, sir.” </p><p>“Anytime, kid… I’d take you home, but I’ve got to head into work. Bill is going to get the groceries if you want to stay with him.” </p><p>Harry wasn’t sure he could stay in a house. Especially not one still on Privet Drive, where Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would know he’d gone. </p><p>“Maybe later, if that’s still alright with you.” </p><p>“Sure, sure,” Mr. Jacobs offered easily. Tell you what, if you take all this from the trolley to my boot, I’ll give you ten pounds.” </p><p>Harry jumped at the chance. He might be able to come back to the store later and get something for himself! Besides, loading the groceries was no hard task and the smell of cleaner was gone from his clothes. He had less of s headache now and it was easier to lift things into the boot and make sure nothing got squished. Like eggs or bread. Mr. Jacobs commented on a job well done and gave Harry the money, which Harry immediately slipped into his shoe. Mr. Jacobs was off with one last meaningful look at Harry. He scampered through the cark park with his new fare. Someone’s radio was loud enough to hear the news: </p><p>“<em>Good morning, Surrey! It’s a beautiful morning in Little Whinging and despite the hour, it is hot hot hot!</em>”</p><p>The man went on to say that it was almost seven so Harry figured he better start looking for someplace to sit. Maybe the park nearby, at least until he could figure some things out when places started opening. </p><p>He found the park he was looking for and scarfed down his food. The crisps were half full by the time he was full and the chewy half gone. The cola was untouched so far. Even as the sun rose, nobody passed him. He stretched briefly and kicked out his legs, glad to feel warmth returning to them. The only way out of Privet Drive, let alone Little Whinging, would be to follow a car and hope for the best. People were starting to pull from their driveways, so while it seemed like Mr. Jacobs had an early start, he could just be trying to beat traffic. </p><p>Someone called out to Harry and he froze. He’d gotten lucky with Mr. Jacobs leaving him to his own devices, but not everyone would. He knew for a fact that going back to the Dursleys meant never seeing the outside of his cupboard for the rest of his life. </p><p>“Morning, kiddo, it’s Mrs. Alfers from Number Ten. I haven’t seen you out this early in a while,” A woman with brown hair and blue eyes wore a sympathetic smile. She leaned out of a powder blue mom-car. It was a small two-door, four-seater with very little trunk space. </p><p>“... then again, it <em>is</em> Dudley's birthday so I guess the Dursleys would want you out early… do you want to come with him to work today?” </p><p>He jumped at the chance. There was no reason not to. </p><p>“Every other time I've offered to take you off their hands for a day they've always got some excuse, but my son has seen how Dudley treats you. It's not right.” Mrs. Alfers insisted as he opened the door. </p><p>“Buckle in.” She reminded him before taking off down the road. This he could handle. </p><p>“What do you do?” Harry asked quietly. It had been a few minutes since they left the rows of houses so he figured it was safe to talk. </p><p>“I'm a secretary in London.” Mrs. Alfers informed him. “I take notes and answer phone calls. My husband is a salesman at Grunnings.” </p><p><em>Uncle Vernon works there</em>, Harry recalled. </p><p>London could work. If Mrs. Alfers didn't take him back then he could just stay there. Find some way to get a job. </p><p>It’s not like Harry could stay at Privet Drive forever. Not if he wanted to get to the bottom of the strange dreams he’d been having. </p><p>▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂</p><p>The guard at the door was cheerful enough and saw no problem when Mrs. Alfers declared that Harry was her nephew. He could only assume that her brother or sister was alright with this. There was no point in protesting. He was given a visitor's badge after walking through the metal detector. He didn’t have much contact with Mrs. Alfers, so why would he know where she worked? </p><p>He spent a fair amount of time listening to Mrs. Alfers clack away at a keyboard. The motion of her fingers and the resulting taps were foreign to him. It was annoying when Dudley smashed away at his games with big meaty fists but this was… gentler somehow.</p><p>They broke for lunch after hours of writing on both their parts. Harry didn't ask and Mrs. Alfers didn't say what she was working on. Likely couldn't. London was foreign to Harry, so he stuck close to Mrs. Alfers, tracking her every move as best he could. Things got awkward when they hurried out the door to a McDonald's not too far from where she worked. </p><p>She ordered two fish and chips and bottled waters. It felt off to be at a McDonald's when it was a place Dudley always bragged about. Like he didn’t belong there. They munched on their fare in-store and went back to the office. </p><p>“Alright, Harry?” Mrs. Alfers asked, peering at him with concerned blue eyes. </p><p>“Fine, thank you.” He murmured quietly. </p><p>The rest of the day passed in a similar flurry of clacking, and by the time Mrs. Alfers was ready to leave, Harry had filled an abandoned notebook with musings of what his dreams could mean. There was a green light and people were flying and waving sticks… He didn't know what to do from there. If he went back to Privet Drive the Dursleys would lock him in the cupboard and forget about him. If they even noticed he was gone. But he didn't know anything about London. He wouldn’t last long here either.. </p><p>“I can't go back with you.” Harry found himself saying. “I didn't think this through. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I could go for a walk but… if I go back they won't let me see the outside of the cupboard under the stairs.” </p><p>“Well, now, that's a rather harsh punishment. But I definitely can't leave you here on your own. Are you sure they won't take you back without harm?” </p><p>“Absolutely.” </p><p>“Then you'll be coming home with me.”</p><p>“But they'll know-.”</p><p>“Who will tell them?” Mrs. Alfers prompted cheerfully. “Certainly not me. With a bit more meat on your bones, some new clothes, perhaps a switch to contact lenses or maybe just a different pair of glasses, you'd be a whole new person. Jamie always wanted a little brother.” </p><p>“And if they try taking me back?” </p><p>“Well, Harry… I'm not sure they would. They're obviously not taking very good care of you. You deserve far better than what they're offering. If they truly do want you back then Jamie will have some excuse to come and see you every day.”</p><p>“I… okay. I'll go back with you.” </p><p>“Perhaps if you sit in the back this time you'll get some rest, take your mind off things.” </p><p>Harry did so, and the drive passed by in a blur. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Number Four was six houses down from Number Ten, and nobody pointed out that Mrs. Alfers only had one son. Or that the boy she took inside was swimming in his clothes. Blinds snapped shut and Harry could imagine housewives whispering to their husbands that the secretary had snatched him up. The scandal! Or they could just say the Dursleys dropped him off and went to celebrate their son's birthday elsewhere.</p><p>He should probably stop speculating and focus on getting used to all this.</p><p>“Well, here we are, home sweet home.” Mrs. Alfers murmured invitingly. She then walked over to the steps and called up the stairs.</p><p>“Jamie-boy, I took Harry to work with me today and he'll be staying here until further notice. Get some of your older clothes for him, would you?”</p><p>“Alright, mum!” Jaime called down the steps.</p><p>“I'm bringing Harry upstairs, so I hope your room is decent!”</p><p>“Does it matter if it is?” Harry wondered. “I doubt I'll be going into any room but the one you give me. And the bathroom, I guess.”</p><p>“It's a preference of mine, dear. I'm allowed to haggle him, I'm his mother.”</p><p>“Of course you are.” He acquiesced. She led him up the stairs and to the right. Two doors later, she opened a door and motioned him inside.</p><p>The walls were pale blue. There was a bed in the corner opposite the door with a wiry frame. Across from it sat a silver desk with a black rolling chair. A closet nestled in the corner in front of the bed and the cabinet was pushed up against it. A round, long sofa the color of the closet and dresser was right by the door.</p><p>“Here we are. The bed is freshly made since we rarely have guests overnight. When Jaime brings his clothes, feel free to try everything on. He doesn't wear it anymore and what fits can be yours until we budget for you. Yell if you need anything.”</p><p>With those words, Mrs. Alfers left him to the room and shut the door. He walked over to the bed and sat down. It was springy enough. The room was nice. He could treat this like a sleepover… If no one came to pick him up then whatever. If he ever got bored he could go back to that Aldi's and see if they were hiring. Or know anyone who was. Not that he knew the first thing about getting a job.</p><p>The more he thought this through, the more wretched he felt. Would the Dursleys even care? Would they look? Harry had nowhere else to go and he was used to what he'd been given. He grew up in Number Four. Where would he go, and why?</p><p>The fact is that he had flipped the whole day on its head because of some stupid dreams he’d been having. Harry got lucky, finding Mr. Jacobs and Mrs. Alfers. He just walked out of Number Four, out of that cupboard, and just didn't care. He’d been too scared too. He cared now. He couldn't mooch off the Alfers. He’d fail at getting a job but it's worth a shot. All the stuff the other him did in those dreams were things he couldn’t possibly imagine. He’d scream himself hoarse if he ran into a giant dog, let alone one with three heads. Whoever thought this was a good idea must have scrambled eggs for brains.</p><p>A knock on the door jolted Harry from his thoughts.</p><p>“Yes?” He called out.</p><p>“Got you some better rags,” Jaime called out.</p><p><em>Anything would be better.</em> Harry scoffed internally.</p><p>Opening the door revealed a pile of clothes on legs. Those legs walked straight to the bed and set the clothes down, which clarified that the legs did indeed have a human attached to the rest of them. Jaime looked about four years older than Harry. He had extremely pale skin, made paler by his ginger hair, and his eyes were greenish-blue. He had clear skin, surprisingly. Harry always figured people his age would have spots on their faces.</p><p>“Take after my dad.” He explained at Harry’s stunned look. It was very obvious that he looked nothing like his mom. “On the other hand, you look exactly like my mother. We could definitely pass you off as a nephew. Do you want to change your name?”</p><p>“Not… not yet, I don't think.” Harry offered slowly. Harry Potter was the only name he’d ever known. How could he respond to another name? “Harry is fine.”</p><p>“Well, I'll leave you to it. Good luck getting all that sorted out, Shrimp.”</p><p>Oh, that’s how.</p><p>"Call me Wolf." Harry insisted. “If you have to call me anything like that.”</p><p>▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂</p><p>Nobody cared that he was at the Alfers’ house, and for that, Harry was glad. Dudley actively ignored Harry after the younger boy jumped on his back and started grabbing at his hair. He didn't actually rip any out. It was too thick. That got the message across, though.</p><p>The Dursleys didn't say anything about it but Harry suspected they didn’t know where he was. For all he knew, they tossed everything Harry could have called his own. It was a very good thing that Dudley's and Harry's birthdays are in the middle of summer.</p><p>Speaking of, Harry stumbled when asked when his birthday was he stumbled over it. He’d spent so much time focusing on Dudley’s birthdays throughout the years, Dudley’s parties, Dudley’s presents, that there was no reason for Harry to remember his birthday. And now, with these new dreams, there were more important dates to worry about. Like Halloween.</p><p>Technically it was July 31st. Not that Harry could say. Someone remembered because on that day Jaime shook Harry awake.</p><p>“The Dursleys got mail for you. Someone really wants to talk to you, apparently.”</p><p>“What?” Harry sighed, fresh from a dream about a flying motorcycle and a man sticking out the back of someone’s head.</p><p>“Yeah, they got a bunch of letters from the same place all saying the same thing. They started burning them but Mrs. Figg rescued one from the pile and dropped it in our mail slot. And get this: their house is surrounded by owls.”</p><p>“Owls,” Harry repeated dumbly. “Like barn owls? The ones that swoop after mice and go ‘who?’”</p><p>“The very same. These seem to be waiting for something, but they don't wait very long. They definitely don't care for Vernon Dursley. I think one pecked at him when he tried shooing them away.”</p><p>Harry snickered at that.</p><p>“I hope they shat on his lawn.” He scoffed.</p><p>“That's fucked, Wolf.” Jaime laughed, yanking him out of the bed. “C'mon, then, get dressed. Everyone's downstairs for breakfast.”</p><p>Harry didn't know who this everyone was, because, outside of Jaime and his friends, nobody really interacted with him. They knew he existed. They just didn't care. He was alright with that.</p><p>“Everyone” turned out to be Jaime's friends, Mr. And Mrs. Alfers, the Jacobs family, and Mrs. Figg from down the road. They were all huddled around the square glass dining room table and shouts of “Happy Birthday!” began when Harry entered the room.</p><p>“Thanks.” He chirped, pleasantly surprised. He was even more surprised when, after putting an omelet in front of him, Mrs. Alfers talked about presents. Harry gobbled it down. It was spinach and cheddar cheese which he’d never had before but the flavors sang on his tongue! And they managed turkey bacon too! It'd been a thing of awkwardness when Harry admitted that he wasn't a fan of red meat. The Dursleys ate that all the time, and since he was usually the one cooking it, he was determined to never smell that stuff again. The Alfers family took that in stride and whenever Mrs. Alfers cooked she managed to.l set aside a bowl for Harry before she added meat to it.</p><p>Mr. Alfers clapped him on the back and insisted that he slow down. There was more where that came from, even if he was excited to get to the presents.</p><p>“Presents? From who?”</p><p>“Us, of course. And a few of your teachers from school.”</p><p>“Okay.” Harry snorted, gulping down the last few bites of his omelet and heading to the sink. Like anyone would give him presents from school.</p><p>“Dishes in the wash, Wolf.” Mrs. Alfers reminded him. He nodded and placed his in the appropriate slots, thankful that all three Alfers were using the nickname he'd given them. They seemed to know that Harry wasn't comfortable hearing his name. The fact that they adjusted anyway was nothing short of a miracle. Using a dishwasher here wasn't that different from what Harry was used to, but again, the Dursleys insisted Harry learn to wash the dishes properly before he even looked at any of their precious gadgets. Harry can absolutely wash dishes.</p><p>The presents ended up being a skateboard and helmet from Jaime's friends, a Nintendo from Jaime himself, and a bike from Mr. and Mrs. Alfers. Harry didn't even get to the other gifts yet. He was stunned that these three knew him so well.</p><p>“You guys are amazing.” Harry blurted out.</p><p>“Well, you're a wonderful child. It's the least we can do.”</p><p>The other presents were chocolate fudge from Mrs. Figg and a fist-sized bag of Jolly Ranchers. Harry absolutely loved these. He doesn’t know where they possibly came from, but Jolly Ranchers were his new favorite candy next to chocolate. And he’d been given both today.</p><p>“Whoever did this is my hero,” Harry admitted. “Not that I don't appreciate all of you and thank you for everything, but I have <em>jolly ranchers</em> and <em>chocolate</em> on the same day!”</p><p>Considering these particular brands are from the US, he took a bit to wonder how in the world they got here. There must be a special store or something.</p><p>“Thought you'd be impressed with the food.”</p><p>“Fudge.” Harry chirped. “Always.”</p><p>“What do you want to do first?” Mr. Alfers asked as Harry waffled back and forth over his new presents.</p><p>“Skateboard… and try that fudge. And that game. Oh, wait, um… Jaime mentioned a letter?”</p><p>“Yes indeed. Something your parents signed you up for when they first had you. It's a special school where you'll learn everything they did.” Mrs. Figg informed him.</p><p>“You knew my parents?” He found himself saying. Mrs. Figg didn't talk about her past much. Around here, not many did. She was in the dreams Harry was having but. He figured they couldn’t tell him everything.</p><p>“Your father was a police officer and your mother worked with herbs.” Mrs. Figg responded gravely. “They died because James's work life followed him home.”</p><p>“As those things are wont to do.” Harry finished dully. That might explain the green lights and the flying and screaming and waving sticks. “Where's the letter?”</p><p>Mrs. Figg handed over a yellow-brown envelope with emerald-green ink.</p><p>It had Harry's name at the center and the nickname he now preferred.</p><p>Wolf AKA Mr. H. Potter</p><p>The Cupboard Under The Stairs</p><p>Number Four Privet Drive</p><p>Little Whinging, Surrey</p><p>“Do you… do you know what this is?” He prompted warily. He knew it was from his dreams, but those couldn’t possibly be real… could they?</p><p>“Yes, but we'll talk about it later. Why don't you go see what games are in that new device of yours? Or try out the skateboard? Wear your helmet, will you? And take your brother and his friends with you.”</p><p>“I, uh… I'll do that. But we'll talk later?”</p><p>“Cross my heart.” Mrs. Alfers swore.</p><p>Harry decided he would have to take her at her word as he let Jaime sweep him up and carry him like a football out the door.</p><p>The sun was blinding and the sky was overcast, about right for this day. Jaime set Harry down as his friends all gathered their skateboards and helmets. There were seven of them, so they had to make one hell of a crowd racing down the street.</p><p>“First thing's first,” Jaime said when everyone had their helmets on. “is that you have to work on balance before anything else. I'm going to drag you along so you can get a feel for it and then you can try skating for yourself.”</p><p>This ended up being one of Harry’s favorite birthdays ever.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It turned out that Mr. and Mrs. Alfers knew what the envelope was because they both had magic in their ancestry. Magic! Harry almost couldn’t believe what they were telling him! Although they were what the magical world would call Assiduans, people who lack magic. Magicians were people who had magic of any kind with witches and wizards being a specific group who channeled their magical energy through wands. Superno (McGonagall called them Su-pear-nose) were beings, not necessarily human, who could use magic and interact with people. Previously called sentient creatures, any fairytale figure you could think of was likely considered Superno. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alfers had actually expected Jaime to go to the special school that Harry got a letter for, but all three confessed to Harry at various times that they were glad his new older cousin did not have to go through such an adjustment. It meant they were somewhat prepared for Harry, though, and weren’t surprised when Mrs. Figg came over for his eleventh birthday with a letter embossed with a large H surrounded by a badger, a snake, an eagle, and a lion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That didn’t mean they knew what to do about school supplies. There was a long list that included a cauldron, robes, and a wand, among other things. None of those were available in the world they knew of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think if we looked online we’d find something on the shadier parts of London?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or someone to take us there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Going online takes forever and we might not even find anything. Why risk it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, what if Wolf writes back and asks someone to take him? They can’t possibly expect him to know everything he needs or else this wouldn’t be a school.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the current state of the Alfers house. Jack and Amelia were going back and forth over how to get there, after days of debate over whether Harry should even go to the strange school that was seemingly out in the Scottish highlands. Harry wasn’t so sure about the place. His dreams painted a terrifying picture of having no one to turn to and fighting things that only he and his peers knew about. The teachers at his school didn’t listen to him on the best of days, so that was to be expected, but why transfer to a new school where things were bound to be more dangerous when no one would listen to him there either?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry changed his stance somewhat when he met Professor McGonagall three days later. Jack and Amelia decided to have Harry write back and ask for a guide. The woman who'd written the first letter appeared on our doorstep. (And how weird was it that this already felt like home to me?) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear Lord, it really is you.” Was the first thing out her mouth when Harry entered the living room. Jaime had answered the door to a woman dressed in a long black skirt and a marigold-yellow blouse with a red blazer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Wolf, think someone’s here for you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That brought Jack and Amelia to the living room as well, both fresh from the backyard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good day, would you happen to be Professor McGonagall?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I am.” The auburn-haired woman confirmed. “I hope this outfit isn't too suspicious.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, actually it's about right for a social worker.” Amelia offered. “But I guess you wouldn't have social workers in the magical world else Wolf wouldn't have ended up with the Dursleys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mel, are we really going at it with the lady when she came all the way out here to help? She probably doesn't even know what we're talking about.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In fact I do.” Professor McGonagall informed them, looking very much like she regretted what she was saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pardon?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You're right, we don't have a department that’s specific to children. But I do know what you're talking about. Harry Potter was sent to Number Four Privet Drive and with what I've just heard that had to be the worst place for him. I know who made the decision to place him, and though I did speak up it obviously wasn't enough. For that, Harry, you have my sincerest apologies.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Accepted?” Harry choked out. At least she was taking responsibility for her part in leaving Harry there. He wondered if Dumbledore would do the same. He’d been bitter in the latter part of his dreams about being with the Dursleys, and he was bitter now since there was apparently a whole other world he knew nothing about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did no one check on him?” Jack prompted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The person who put him there placed a special charm on the house that allowed it not to be found. As well as, I'm guessing, one on Harry himself. You'd have to ask about that because I don't detect anything of the sort but what applied to the objects doesn't always transfer to living things.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interesting…” Amelia snorted, unimpressed. “I'll have to speak with whoever this Magician is at some point soon, but we asked you here for advice on how to get Wolf's school supplies and to Hogwarts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you've asked the right person. That's my job for Assiduan-born students, and I am currently en route to do so. Harry can come with me and the rest in a few days. You all can as well if you'd like. He'll be coming home with much of his things over the summer so it's only fair that you all know what to expect.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we'd like that.” Jack blurted out before Amelia could get a word in. “And… well, I don't know how to say this, but my wife and I both have at least one magical ancestor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's usually how Assiduan-borns are found, though Harry is a special case. I doubt he could have found better.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there any way to know who we could be related to? If anyone?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be a service at the Magical Bank. I'll direct you to the right people when we meet next and head for Diagon Alley. Is August 10th alright by you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's a Saturday so it's more than fine. Should we expect you here or go elsewhere?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here is just fine, thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The week passed a blur of nothing. School was over, so there wasn't much to do. Harry was only allowed to go on the skateboard if Jaime was with him, an oath the Alfers extracted from both boys in an attempt to keep Harry unscathed. It worked, mostly. He sat in his new room reading every book he could get his hands on. Or writing in a journal, which he found out later was his for the keeping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Professor McGonagall arrived at noon with a silver goblet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a portkey.” She explained, holding up the cup. “On my word, we will be transported to a pub in London called the Leaky Cauldron. Supplies can be found not far from there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall held out the cup and as soon as everyone took hold of it, it glowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking a portkey is like going on a roller coaster with a bunch of twists. Or going to the highest floor you can on an elevator and suddenly looking down at the ground. Only the swoop was much sharper, and nobody liked it. Even McGonagall took some time to reorient herself, muttering about how she'd never get used to that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In front of the group loomed a shack of a place labeled as the Transfiguration professor had previously advertised. They went inside and while Harry wasn't surprised by what he found, it was a bit startling. Harry never really been to a bar before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My kind of place,” Jaime said jokingly. Harry jabbed him in the arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don't know what this place is. They could take you seriously.” He hissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come off it, Wolf. These folks aren't going to care as long as we're with your teacher. You're going to school for this stuff, they probably see kids like you all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“While you are quite right about that, Jaime, you should do your best not to aggravate those you don't know.” Mr. Alfers shot his son a stern look and immediately became his favorite person. Harry beamed at him and he winked back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spoilsport,” Jaime grumbled as they followed McGonagall and the bartender through the courtyard out the back. The group was led to a solid brick wall that the older man tapped in a specific order with an ancient stick that looked more like a branch than a wand. It worked anyway because the wall parted like the Red Sea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to Diagon Alley.” The bartender rasped before stepping away from what bustled behind the wall. McGonagall led them through and the Alfers were faced with first-entry into the Magical World. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nearest store was the cauldron shop, but that wasn’t the first thing Harry saw. Everything looked about the way Harry’s dreams described it. The apothecary, the pet store, the sports shop, school supplies… it was literally a strip-mall for the Magical World, and likely the most famous one. A new kid’s first taste of the rest of their lives. He wanted to see any and everything but he knew we didn’t have all day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indeed, McGonagall breezed right past everything, striding for the tall marble building at the end of the lane. Harry would hate to be in her way her if he passed her on a good day. She looked so severe and stern as she strode up to the doors. Jaime bit his tongue when he saw the elves and Harry gulped, gripping the older boy’s arm until it likely flushed red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature at the door was humanoid enough. They came up to his chest, had sharp angles with a smug look about them. The elf had a beard. It was something Harry always imagined as human, having a beard. You never hear about unicorns or dragons having beards, but dwarves and elves supposedly did-. Hang on… did those exist here?! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Breathe,” Jaime warned as he and Harry approached the open set of doors the elf stood beside. The elves bowed to them and Harry froze. What should he do with that? Bow back? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is not a necessity, young Magician.” The elf croaked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, apparently he needs to work on not saying whatever he thinks. He got lucky he hadn’t said too much to the Alfers and Mr. Jacobs about his life with the Dursleys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I shake your hand?” Harry asked. That seemed like a good enough compromise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you insist.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shook the elf’s hand and learned that his name was Piketooth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you, Piketooth, I hope your day goes well.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group was waved through another set of doors, silver this time. Both elves there accepted a handshake and he learned their names (Flameclaw and Greyhead) in return for a deep bow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gotta admit, these guys have style,” Jaime muttered warily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you say that?” Harry wondered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He recited the creepy poem engraved on the door that warned away bank robbers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Their security must be through the roof if they’ve got that on their doors.” Harry snorted, amused. The dragon at the bottom of the bank was definitely part of security.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We entered a vast marble hall and Harry was instantly overwhelmed. Instinct had him stop but he managed to drag Jaime to one side so that they leaned against a wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Amelia asked quietly. “If this is too much for you, we can wait outside.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There weren’t many situations where he got overwhelmed around here. Harry’s birthday had been a mild case of it. So while he wasn’t sure how Amelia Alfers knew what to do, he definitely appreciated it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, I’m good now.” He found himself saying. Now that he could focus a bit more, he noticed a long counter that all but split the room in half. A massive group of elves moved around behind it. Some weighed coins, others examined what looked to be gems, many of them wrote on things he couldn’t see. Harry didn’t even think about the doors that lined each side of the hall. If he started counting he would never stop and we’d be here forever. But he had so many questions!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall was patient enough to wait out his freeze-up and the group approached the long desk. Luckily, some of the elves weren’t doing anything. He wondered what it would take for them to all be busy. There were so many of them that he bet it’d have to be an emergency. What would an emergency at Gringotts look like-? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have his key, madam?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall produced a small golden key on a thin silver chain. The elf glared at it through narrowed eyes before nodding once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That seems to be in order. Do you wish to see the vaults for yourselves or set up an account to take from them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Set up an account?” Harry asked. “You mean like a debit card?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost. The magic of Gringotts would allow physical coins to be accessed without the necessity of the carts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank all the stars in the sky and then some.” McGonagall breathed lightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry snickered at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of roller coaster do you guys operate?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We do nothing of the sort, I assure you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wicked gleam in the elf’s eye told him otherwise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your second request can be handled just as swiftly, Madame McGonagall. If you all could follow me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We were led to one of many side rooms, which looked like they were fresh out of a courtroom on a TV show: long wooden benches with a part at the front sectioned off. An elf with the name Pallford stitched into his vest approached the group and bowed to Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Greetings, young one. I have been expecting you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why's that?" Harry choked out, trying to remember anything he could about how the bank operated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The Potter accounts have been passed down to you. As the sole remaining member of the family, I expected your guardian to discuss what that meant and bring you in to take stock." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was placed with non-Magicals after the war. There was no one to bring me in until today. I'm lucky to know what I know now." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And doubtless you'll learn more as you age. Here is a ledger of the trust fund account that was made the day you were born. It is the only account you have access to until you come of age at seventeen." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry had already been seventeen and he wouldn't call himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>of age</span>
  </em>
  <span> for all the money in the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can I see the ledgers for the other accounts even if I can't access them?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can." Pallford rumbled, eyes gleaming. He snapped his fingers and a large brown cloth sack appeared in his hands. As Harry rummaged through it, he couldn't help but wish that it was a cinch bag. These ledgers were important to keep and he just knew he would lose this with each store we got things from. The bag morphed between his hands into a familiar nylon bag with an extendable mouth and thick straps. It opened at the top and closed with a jerk of the strings. Harry knew from the weight of it that the ledgers had not been damaged during the bag's transformation and for that, he was thankful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You should work on that." Amelia murmured. "You might be able to change bigger objects someday." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Without a wand, at that." Pallford informed us. "You will be one to keep an eye on, Harry Potter." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nervous at the sound of expectation placed on a name he barely liked to hear, Harry did his best to change the subject. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So I have money now. And there are vaults that belong to the Potters. That's… something. I think…. I know this is a bank but people keep things here, don't they? Like a safety deposit box of something. Would the Potters have stuff in their vaults? Books or heirlooms? Or is it all just this?" Harry wondered, shaking the bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There are indeed family heirlooms, young Potter. Journals and objects that have been passed down through the Potter family. But you would have to go to the vault for that." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry figured they wouldn’t have time for that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, I'll come back another time." He decided. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wise choice, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall was behind him and when he looked up to see why it turned out she was by the door with a sack similar to the one he'd been given to hold coins. "Those carts are not for the faint of heart. Unless you're retrieving a physical object, only the elves have need of them." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fair enough. Harry was more focused on the fact that the Professor's departure was a mystery to him. He needed to work on his observation skills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now, how can I withdraw money without going down to the vaults?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would involve a charmed pouch that refills as needed. You can set a fixed amount so that only that amount appears in the bag or you can ask for however much you want to have on hand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I'm not sure how much I want to have. Can the bag start out empty and fill up as needed?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is an option, yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I will do that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In order to access this bag, you will need a key to your trust vault. Currently, the only ones in possession of keys to any of your vaults are you, through your teacher, and me. If you want my advice, that is how it should stay regardless of who you trust. The bag is enchanted so that only the key can access the bag, and only if you are holding it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So if I get kidnapped or something-.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Press the key to your wrist and say </span>
  <em>
    <span>prope</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That will end the transfer of money from all Potter accounts and it shall not open again until you press the key to your wrist and say </span>
  <em>
    <span>directus</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wrote the two words down on the back of his Hogwarts letter and tucked the pen back into his pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I think I've got it.” Harry admitted. “Does that mean I can use the bag now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your key.” The elf reminded him patiently, holding out a brass object on a silver chain. Harry took it with a murmur of thanks and pressed it to the bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five Galleons.” He ordered. Sure enough, he reached into the bag and five golden coins were nestled in his palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>So</span>
  </em>
  <span> cool!” Harry mumbled. “Do you think that's everything?” He asked Pallford. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elf tilted his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If I have forgotten anything, I can send a message via owl or through the pouch."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, that is wicked!" Jaime exclaimed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, it is!" Harry crowed excitedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The drawstring bag glowed suddenly and Harry got the feeling that something had been added to it. When he asked, the elf nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your family tapestry and the ledgers for your vaults.” He informed Harry. “As well as an empty notebook and a Gringotts writing tool. It looks like a quill but writes more like a human pencil or pen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quill?” Harry asked. "Like the feather-pens, I'd see in an office?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will learn more once you get your school supplies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Figures</span>
  </em>
  <span> that there are more places to be… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright… thank you, Pallford. You've been an enormous help today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Professor McGonagall led the Alfers out of the side room and out of the bank altogether. Harry waffled between the choices he had now and it must have shown because Jaime shook his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pole." He said, dragging Harry towards him. Oh. Right. That would do it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's up, Wolf?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know if I should look at the ledgers or get my school things first." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why is this a problem?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because what if I get the school stuff and then there's nothing left when I look at the ledgers? Or what if I spend all day trying to make sense of the ledgers and never get my supplies?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Very considerate, Mr. Potter, but I assure you that we would not be here to get your school things if I wasn't absolutely sure your family's account couldn't recover." Professor McGonagall insisted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See, Wolf?" Jaime offered cheerfully, clapping him on the shoulder. "You'll be just fine. And I'll tell you what, after we get home and you go through all your stuff at home, we'll go skating tomorrow."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That sounds good," Harry admitted, relieved. At least he wouldn't be robbing Lily and James Potter of their money as well as their youth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Our next stop was the clothing store, Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madam Malkin was indeed a squat, smiling witch dressed in a strange deep purple that he'd never seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hogwarts group?" She asked when she spotted us. "Well met, Professor. Which of these young men is getting fit for school?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Harry, here." McGonagall offered shortly, pushing him forward. Harry accidentally yanked Jaime forward with him, nervous as he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry hasn’t really been shopping in the real world and he didn’t know what to do here. He had no clue what looked good on him and everything he ever wore, with the exception of underwear, were from his cousin, Dudley, who was much larger than him. Even the newer clothes were given to him. He’d never had to try on anything to make sure it fit before a month ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Remember how mum measured you to make sure all my old stuff would fit at first?" Jaime breathed. "Before she brought new ones?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded, hoping that he didn't look as terrified as he felt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is just like that. You just have to stand still and let the nice lady do all the work. She'll tell you when you're done just like mum did."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay." Harry choked out. "I won’t have to change here?" Harry realized. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nope, you get to be a mannequin." Jaime snickered. "Or a pincushion. Be as still as possible, Wolfie, and you'll do just fine. Want him to come with?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nope!" Harry scowled. It was one thing to not know what he was doing, it was another to let someone in on that embarrassment. "I've got this." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yep. Skateboarding." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah." Skateboarding was fun. If Harry could balance on a skateboard, he could do this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second Magician pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood him on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hello," said the boy, who Harry had no hope of recognizing. "Hogwarts, too?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Harry admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy with a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why the first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, Harry knew this boy instantly. He'd always wondered what people like him sounded like in real life. He figured his dreams must have exaggerated the utter pompousness but now Harry knew better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco Malfoy wouldn't be the enemy Harry had seen in his dreams because Harry had no time for it. No need to put too much effort towards him when a good knockout would get Malfoy to leave him alone. Too bad Harry couldn't do it now. The little git hadn't done anything yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you got your own broom?" Malfoy went on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Harry snorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Play Quidditch at all?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nope," Harry admitted freely. He briefly wondered if his newly developed fear of heights would cripple him here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not really."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family has been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not always based on family, though." Harry noted. "So you can't know for sure. Besides, a badger could stomp a snake in the wild." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever, I bet you'll be in Hufflepuff, sappy as you are." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had no clue who Harry was and he just thought he could guess the house? Nevermind the fact that Malfoy would be wrong twice over, Harry was almost tempted to get into Ravenclaw just to spite him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Want to bet on that?" Harry challenged him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bet? What are you, a Mudblood?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What, scared you'll lose money?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course not! What terms?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you're right and I get into Hufflepuff, I'll owe you a favor. It has to be something I'm capable of, I have to know what it is before you cash it in. It can't be life-threatening or harmful to others. If you're wrong and I get into another House, I get the favor with the same terms. Do we have a deal?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nevermind the fact that Harry getting into Gryffindor would technically prove Malfoy right. That wasn’t the bet and Harry had his own reasons for joining the Lion’s Den.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We have a deal." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's you done, young Malfoy. And please endeavor to keep such foul language out of public spaces. Surely your father taught you proper language." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy scowled at the older woman and flounced off. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. The kid was a prick, there was no changing that. Harry let him off easily enough with a bet that he'd be collecting on soon enough, but if Malfoy called him that word again, he would break the git’s nose.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next shop was Flourish and Blotts, where Harry would get his school books. On the list were </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Standard Book of Spells</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>A History of Magic</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Magical Theory</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Magical Drafts and Potions</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew nothing about these books or the authors. Maybe he should have paid more attention to his dreams because he knew there was something about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fantastic Beasts</span>
  </em>
  <span> that helped him and his friends later on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were far too many books for him to go through in one day, so Harry was hoping McGonagall had a good idea of where to go. He would definitely be coming back to get more books that weren’t on this list but he’d start with these. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry paid for the books on the list and a few of the others that Jaime, Jack, and Amelia had picked up. McGonagall had a few books of her own that were accidentally lumped in with his. After they realized, he said that she could pay him back later if she felt like she had to. It made no sense to split up a purchase like this when they were all here for similar things and were all going to the same place next. He didn’t see the big deal she was making of it, but he also might have been missing something. Maybe it’s because he has his own money now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next shop was for potions supplies. Hary would need a cauldron and a set of scales to weigh ingredients and apparently a telescope. McGonagall was very no-nonsense and by-the-book about the purchases despite the awe that he felt seeing all these tools. He and Jamie made lists of everything they could come back for the next time they visited this place. McGonagall agreed on that because it would have to be another six times, one for each year. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Apothecary reeked like rotten eggs and cabbage went bad, Harry’s dreams lied about that. Barrels almost Harry’s height stood against the wall, some of them caked in slimy goop that he wasn’t too keen on touching. Jars of shriveled herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the windows. Feathers bundled, wicked fangs, and snarled claws were strung up and dangled from the ceiling. Harry wasn’t sure what exactly he’d need for potions, but the surprisingly young man behind the counter seemed to expect McGonagall, so he and Jaime were free to roam around the shop and keep a listening ear out for whatever sounded most interesting. Harry would definitely be looking out during Potions. If the magical world was anything like the science teacher said chemistry was, something was bound to explode if he didn't know what he was doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the apothecary came time for a wand. Harry and Jaime laughed when that came up and whipped their arms about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abracadabra!” Harry shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alakazam!” Jaime parried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Professor McGonagall hissed and something smothered Harry’s mouth seconds later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not ever say that word!” McGonagall insisted sharply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s just a silly trick!” Harry scoffed beneath her hand. She shook his head from side to side before lifting her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say again?” She ordered frostily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a silly trick. Nothing happens if you say it. To people who don’t think magic is real, it’s just sounds strung together.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s not here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Amelia offered warily. “And I would very much like it if you never struck my nephew again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you think I said?” Harry asked, coming to a realization. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Avada Kedavra is the killing curse. If a Magician is powerful enough, it can be done without a wand. Its intended target receives an instant, painless death.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I said,” He confirmed. “Similar language,” because of course it was, he almost can’t believe this! “but lacking a syllable and different vowels and consonants. I’ll keep it in mind, though. Wouldn’t want to accidentally kill someone for annoying me.” He joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Mr. Potter.” Professor McGonagall informed him sternly. “No, you wouldn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaime, stick with Harry and McGonagall, your father and I are going to have a look around, see if we missed anything and maybe get you some food. You can handle the wand part, can’t you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime looked at his mother, eyebrows scrunched before he nodded and slung an arm around Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, Wolf, let’s go get that magic wand. I wonder if there’s anything else you’re not allowed to say around here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The store is Ollivander’s.” McGonagall hurried off after Harry and Jaime and it took a lot for Harry to walk away from the Alfers. He had no clue why the Alfers sent them away or what Amelia was so upset about. Harry had committed a faux-pas here. It was only right that he was corrected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime shook his head when Harry voiced his thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Teachers don’t put hands on their students. That stopped a few years ago and most of Britain isn’t too keen on bringing it back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was all so weird that Harry figured it was best to just go along for now. It was stupid to be so upset over getting hit when he’d very obviously done something wrong and was getting corrected. What if someone’s life had actually been in danger from my words?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re here,” McGonagall said stiffly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shop before them was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read </span>
  <b>
    <em>Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.</em>
  </b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that McGonagall sat on to wait. The place had an air of silence about it similar to a very strict library. Jaime let out a noise of surprise and he instantly shushed him. Stunned by his own actions, Harry didn’t speak again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was so much to do with wands that Harry wasn’t sure where to start. Would Ollivander answer all his questions? Did he even know how to? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shook his head to clear it and looked around instead. Each wand was nestled in soft velvet jewelry boxes, the type that would hold a necklace the long way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The strict feeling intensified, to the point where shivers jolted up Harry’s spine and he clutched Jaime’s arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprisingly, Jaime was the one who jumped. Harry’s feet remained rooted to the floor, though he still clung to his new cousin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Twin orbs glittered through the darkness and the closer the person stepped, the more of themselves they revealed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Harry murmured awkwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah yes," said Ollivander. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goodness, it would take forever to get used to people automatically knowing his name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wolf,” He responded on reflex. “If you don’t mind too much.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not, dear boy. Names, somewhat like wands, are chosen and shed. If a name no longer fits the person it belongs to, much like a wand, it can be exchanged for a new one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know when it’s time to change?” Harry wondered. “What if a name, or a wand, is forced on you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, well, well, cunning little magician you are. Wands are a bit more obvious when they no longer fit, but, much like a name… sometimes you just know, Wolf. I want you to keep that in mind as you accomplish your goal today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough.” Harry offered warily. He doubted that the same wand dream-Harry got would fit now, but he could only hope. Having the same wand core was all that got him through his dreams. Without that protection, that luck… well. Harry was already hopeless in the real world. He didn’t want to die anytime soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have your mother's eyes,” Ollivander said conversationally as he rifled through a stack of wands on the counter nearest to him. “It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s good to hear something nice about Lily Potter. Harry didn’t remember much about her that isn’t skewed by someone else’s view. Apparently, she’s good with charms. Maybe Professor Flitwick would know something about her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ollivander got closer as he said this, and within seconds Harry could see his face reflected in the man’s off-white moon-like eyes. Ollivander reached a long unkempt finger towards Harry’s forehead and Jaime jerked Harry back before he could actually reach it. Ollivander paid no mind to the offense and Harry nudged Jaime’s arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Play nice!</span>
  </em>
  <span> He mouthed to his new cousin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to say I sold the wand that sealed your fate, young one,” Ollivander said softly, breath barely above a whisper. “Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very much so, and in the right hands, it could have been great. If I’d known what that wand would go on to do, I’d have denied the owner, first thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yew is poisonous,” Harry found myself saying. “And if the wand chooses the Magician, then how could you hold it back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ollivander’s eyes glittered knowingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are going to do great at Hogwarts, young one. Especially once we find your wand. Now, which is your dominant hand?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry held out his right arm and Jaine stepped back. The boys watched as the wand-maker pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings from his pocket. He proceeded to measure from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and around Harry’s head. He explained the makeup of wands as he continued to measure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another Magician’s wand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like in the dream, somewhere along the way the tape-measure had lifted from Ollivander’s hands and continued to measure Harry on its own. He was surprised Jaime was so quiet about this since it was taking all Harry’s strength to be perfectly still as the tape measure did its work. Mr. Ollivander appeared in front of him with four stacks of small slim boxes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That will do,” He said, and the tape measure crumpled to the floor like a puppet whose strings were suddenly cut. Before Harry could ask how the tape-measure did that without an incantation, he was handed a long smooth light grey stick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remembering how McGonagall had freaked out when Harry said a fake curse, he decided to keep silent as he flicked the wand. True to the dreams, Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost immediately and gave him another one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time Harry actually waved his hand as if he were saying hello to someone. Nothing happened with this wand either, but Olivander seemed to need it for something because he hesitated with that one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Harry wondered as he twitched the wand between his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Testing this one.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is there to test? The wand didn’t work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You reacted to the phoenix feather more than the maple, but not so much as you would with your true wand.” Ollivander informed Harry as he evaluated the wand he’d just taken back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said before that no two wand cores are alike because no two magical substances are alike. But I can tell if you react to the magical core or the wood more strongly and narrow it down from there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So even though the phoenix might not be my wand’s phoenix, you can see that I’ll need a phoenix feather for the core of my wand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exactly, young one.” Ollivander crowed as he put the wand back in its box. “But just to be sure, we’ll test out a few more.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few more turned out to be about a hundred, or so it felt, and with each wand that seemed to be a dud, Harry found himself questioning his worth more. All the things that had happened in Harry’s dreams were extraordinary. He couldn’t imagine even seeing a three-headed dog, much less getting past one. The thought of getting on a broom scared him beyond belief, trolls would be at the school and he already knew he wasn’t capable of saving anyone because all the magic he’d been able to do involved talking to one snake, changing objects, and getting away from Dudley. There was no way the wand that chose Harry in the dream would match him now. If any wand chose him at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens if none of the wands here fit me?” Harry wondered, feeling small. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are other wand-makers, though not many, that I could consult to have you fitted. You are not the first tricky customer I’ve had and you won’t be the last.” Ollivander assured Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at it this way, Wolf,” Jaime said suddenly. “You’ve got magic, that’s for sure. You have a bank account in a magic mall and you can make coins appear in a bag.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s stuff the Potters set up when-. When I was born, probably. It would work on any child they had.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A non-magical child would not get a letter for Hogwarts,” McGonagall informed us sternly. “Your mother comes from an Assiduan family and she got a letter. Her sister, Petunia, did not. You belong in the Magical World, Mr. Potter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wolf,” Harry said quickly, almost speaking over her. “I… I don’t like being called by my name,” He admitted. “Everyone who says it acts like I’m some bug they want to crush under their shoe. Except the Alfers and Mrs. Figg. But they don’t mind calling me Wolf either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that’s truly how you feel about your own name, then it’s no wonder the letter wrote out that moniker.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holly and phoenix feather,” Ollivander cut in suddenly, handing Harry a pale green wand that sparkled red when hit by a patch of sunlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did say I’d need a phoenix feather.” Harry offered, knowing that this was the wand from the dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on, give it a wave.” Ollivander encouraged. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>please</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>, if I ever do anything right in this world, let it start here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry raised the wand above his head and brought it down in a fierce arc. A blaze of red and gold sparks followed. They shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light onto the walls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And indeed, you do!” Ollivander whooped eagerly. “It is… rather curious, though, young one.” He offered soberly as he took the wand back and wrapped its box in packaging paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is?” Harry asked with a knowing sense of dread. He hoped the wand-maker was about to say what he thought… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, young one.” He began slowly. “Every single one. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand only ever gave two feathers. It is extremely curious, young one, that this wand chose you when its brother… dear young one, its brother gave you that scar.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry swallowed loudly, knowing that this was what he expected to heat but somehow, coming from people in this world, it made the news more real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yew is poisonous.” The younger boy choked out. “I guess only a strong rare magical substance could make its home there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is… almost true, young one. The magical substances are all powerful enough to temper the damaging properties of the woods we use to make our wands. In fact, I’d say they temper each other. But since yew is very poisonous, not many wands can be crafted from it. You are a very insightful young student, Wolf. I look forward to great things from you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry exhaled shakily, more thrown by this experience than he would like to admit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much do I owe you?” He prompted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seven Galleons, young one. They’re gold and the largest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shook the Gringotts key from around his neck and pressed it to the pouch he’d been given. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seven Galleons.” He croaked out, hoping the magic wouldn’t fail him now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt the bag grow heavier and shook the coins into Ollivander’s hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Harry said. “for helping me today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, young one, the honor is mine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaime had to lead Harry around after that. Harry was too busy trying to process the day. Nothing that anyone said reached his ears, something he vowed to change once he settled into Hogwarts. He couldn’t afford to be as unaware as he was. Harry survived in the dreams because he was observant, in his own way. He had to at least get something from those. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall led the Alfers back home with the same portkey she’d used to bring them to Diagon Alley. After a few cups of tea where McGonagall told the Alfers what to expect on the first day and how to get to Hogwarts, the older woman was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ameilia, Jack, and Jaime all turned to Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want to do now?” Jack asked softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. He needed to think. He needed to figure out how much of this was real and when he would wake up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could admit to the first part, at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going up to my room,” Harry said. “ I need to think about all this.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The rest of the summer went rather normally. A month passed rather quickly when you were waiting for something, but the Alfers did their best to make sure Harry wasn’t too worried about it. Harry read all of his school books almost immediately, knowing that he would forget half of what was in here despite the notes he took. He found three snakes in the backyard and hissed at them. One reared back like he’d insulted their mother and when they hissed at him in response, Harry heard human words. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Insssolent Ssspeaker! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Have you no heart?! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To think, the onesss you live with are decent sssort!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry apologized in English and asked what he said. It turns out he’d cursed their nest to be full of bees. Harry wouldn’t really wish that on anyone, and he told them so. They wiggled their heads and Harry got the feeling they would be rolling their eyes if they could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> When he was too anxious for skateboarding or even eating, the Alfers quizzed him by turning to a random page from History of Magic or One Thousand Magical Herbs and asked a question. Slowly but surely, he started getting things right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day came, September First, and Harry was up before the sun. He’d been setting his alarm for 4:30 am every day for the last month because he’d gotten up at five in his dreams. Since the train left at eleven and it took three hours to get to London, four-thirty seemed like a good time to be up and moving. He got up, pulled on the first outfit that his hands touched, and opened his trunk, starting to go through all the books he’d packed over a week ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“G’to bed, Wolf.” Jaime grumbled from a corner of Harry’s room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right, right, he’d slept in Harry’s room because they were up late talking about all the ways he could mess up his first day. “Is too early.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, Jaime, you need to get ready too. It’s an hour to London.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been to Mum’s job before, we know when to leave. You’ve got at least another half an hour before they’re up and an hour or so before we leave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re not ready to go. Come </span>
  <em>
    <span>on,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jaime, I can’t be late or the train will leave without me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Somehow, I doubt the staff at Hogwash would let their students play hooky.” Jaime yawned. “But you’re such an anxious little shit that I suppose.” You know the train leaves at eleven, right? We’d get there on time even if we left at seven, like Mum does for work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Alfers started work at nine, so Harry could see why Jaime thought this was too early to be up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help me drag all this downstairs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tap it with your wand and say ‘</span>
  <b>
    <em>gravitas amisi</em>
  </b>
  <span>.’” Jaime mumbled sleepily. “Roughly translates to ‘</span>
  <b>
    <em>lighten from gravity</em>
  </b>
  <span>’ or ‘</span>
  <b>
    <em>lose weight</em>
  </b>
  <span>’ or something like that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry did as he said and lifted the trunk. It came up easily in his hands and he thanked Jaime. Latin would be a bit hard to learn, but Harry would figure something out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry took his trunk downstairs and set it by the door. Inside were books, clothes, robes, and a few knick-knacks from the Alfers to remember them by. When he got back upstairs, Jaime was in his own room and looked like he was getting ready to go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we wake up mum and dad right now, they’ll growl at us and turn over, so let’s give it another hour. We can practice our Latin in the meantime.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Practicing Latin was Harry’s idea, although Jaime was picking it up faster than Harry was. Harry figured that since the incantations being used at Hogwarts were derived from ancient languages, he might as well learn the basics. Action words, like Lift or Forward, would hopefully come through for him in the Magical World. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two hours later, the Alfers came downstairs to find Harry and Jaime tripping over words in Latin. Harry’s wand was in Jaime’s hands, where it would do no magic. He’d been told about not using magic in the presence of those without, and that likely meant the Alfers couldn’t see even if they already knew about it. Harry would have to ask if they were an exception since Harry was technically Assiduan-born and they knew everything else that he knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Early start, you two?” Jack laughed quietly at the boys’ solemn expressions and the fact that Jaime waved the wand every time Harry spoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wolf, here, woke up at four-thirty in the godsforsaken morning, Dad!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Amelia snickered. “I can imagine how that went since you’re both here. What</span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you doing right now, children?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chanting.” Jaime and Harry said at the same time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, let’s get Wolf’s things in the car and you can continue your, um, </span>
  <em>
    <span>chanting</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the way to the train.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ride took almost two hours and when the Alfers got there, they weren’t sure what to do or where to go next. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Platform nine and platform ten but the ticket says nine-and-three-quarters…” Jack drifted off, annoyed. “Maybe it’s further underground?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think there is a platform nine-and-three-quarters in the real world, Jack.” Harry offered nervously. “They use whole numbers to mark each station. There must be a portal or something. Something we wouldn’t be able to see at first.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You go through that column there, Harry.” Someone informed the Alfers from behind them. Harry whirled around and found himself looking at a family of redheads. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know his name?” Jaime demanded sharply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur and I… we knew his parents rather well before they died.” The woman offered vaguely, stepping forward. “Molly Weasley. I suppose you all are the family he ended up with? I don’t know how it happened, and I honestly never thought I’d see you again, but I’m just so glad you’re alright, Harry.” She blurted out, dragging him into a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wolf.” Harry said at last. “I go by Wolf. It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Weasley. These are the Alfers. Yes, I live with them. We live near what’s left of my mother’s family.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lily didn’t often talk about her sister. Are they good to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very good.” Harry said, not really meaning the Dursleys. Mrs. Alfers placed a hand on his shoulder and when he looked up, she had a knowing look on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All’s well that ends well, I suppose.” Molly Weasley murmured. Harry shook his head. That didn’t excuse ten years of emotional abuse and neglect. Just because no one else was around for it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, and he couldn’t let Dumbledore or anyone else who was in on this wash it away just because dream-Harry turned out to be the hero they needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “The place is packed with Assiduans like yourselves, of course-.” Amelia cut Molly off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s rather strange that they allowed an entrance to the Magical World to be so visible.” She mused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They make for a good cover, dear. It would look rather strange, people disappearing into a column. The magic around this entrance redirects Assiduan attention, so while they might see us coming in, anyone who goes looking won’t know what for.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that include us?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It might, since you are Assiduans, but you know about Magic so I guess we’ll have to see. Percy, dear, you go first.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry watched Percy stride up to the column with his things and disappear. The portal didn’t so much as ripple, which might make this a bit more difficult to take in. How could he run at something so solid that it looked ready to crash into? How did Percy, and now Fred and next George, disappear without leaving so much as a shoe? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’d like, we could go last, just to be sure you all make it.” Molly offered, pointing to herself and her remaining two children. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be nice,” Jack said before anyone else could respond. “I meant to ask, can Assiduans get on to the platform?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since you know about magic and were made aware of the platform, yes. It happens every year with Assiduan-born students.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling a bit better about the fact that Amelia, Jack, and Jaime could experience this, Harry pushed his trunk a couple of feet away and swung it around so it faced the column. Then he ran at it for all it was worth, closing his eyes right before he was supposed to crash-. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only to be pushed further into something and wobble slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opened his eyes, the place before him was just like in the dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A scarlet steam engine waited next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Behind him was a wrought-iron archway where the ticket box had been with the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>Platform Nine and Three Quarters </span>
  </em>
  <span>on it. Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families and others fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trunk to the side of the gate and waited for the Alfers and the remaining Weasleys to arrive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa.” He heard Jaime say beside him. “Guess it’s not just the elves who have style.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced up to find that Jaime had come through after him. Then Amelia, then Jack, then the boy IHarry knew to be Ron Weasley, then Mrs. Weasley with Ginny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is amazing.” Jack breathed. Amelia came over to Harry and snagged the other end of the trunk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go find you a seat on the train, shall we?” She prompted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Harry said, looking to Ron and Mrs. Weasley. “Would you like to come with us or are you going to find the rest of your family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s very nice of you to ask, Harry, but I do need to catch up to the boys. Maybe one of them will find you later on the train.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” Harry offered, hoping his tone was friendly. “Oh, before I forget, Jaime and I figured out a way to lighten the weight of my trunk! Did you know people could do that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are a few lightening charms. Some of them are based on the mass of an object.” Mrs. Weasley offered. “Which one do you know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amiss gravitate, I think.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gravitas amisi.” Jaime corrected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that sounds like it’ll work on anything. I’ll give it a try and see what the boys say. Thank you for sharing that, Harry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought it was weird that there were multiple ways to get the same result when it came to magic, but it might be more like an art than math. Different languages might mean different spells depending on the words used, regardless of the intention of the spell. He’ll have to see what teachers thought. Maybe McGonagall or Flitwick knew something about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alfers followed him through the crowd, down the train to the very end. Harry pointed out an empty compartment and Jaime helped him shove the thankfully light trunk into the compartment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is super bulky.” He grumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least it’s not heavy.” Jaime offered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alfers waited beside the train as Harry and Jaime tucked the trunk into a corner of the compartment, then we got back off and he flung himself at them both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for helping me so much these past months. I really appreciate all the stuff you’ve done for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we’d do it again, Wolf.” Amelia insisted. “You let us know if anyone tries to bother you at that fancy place. We’ll set them straight in a heartbeat.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure I’ll be fine, Mel.” Harry snickered. “But I’ll write a lot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Jack said. “Now, check your pockets and that bag of yours. Got your wand?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Glasses strapped on right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry felt around the back of his head for the goggle-like strap that held his glasses to his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gringotts pouch?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He checked the blue carry-on he decided to take. The small brown drawstring pouch was embroidered with a large ornate G and beside it were copies of the ledgers he’d sworn to read-through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took out the pouch and swiped the key around his neck across it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five Galleons,” Harry said. When he shook the back a few seconds later, it jingled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got all your trinkets in there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rifled through the bag and nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the books you’re going to get through in likely two minutes?” Jaime drawled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not that fast a reader, you prat!” Harry crowed. “But yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skateboard?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely. I can’t believe you gave me your old one just so I could take it to Hogwarts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the bike was out of the question so you’ve got to have something fun to do out there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea, but I guess it’s too late now.” Amelia snorted.  “Got your other glasses?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.” He’d seen them when he went looking for the knick-knacks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, kiddo.” Amelia sighed. “You be good. Write often, try not to stomp on too many sensibilities.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No promises, but I can try.” He chirped. “Thanks for getting me here, guys. Get home safe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll write to you as soon as we do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the months after the trip to Diagon Alley, Harry had written to Pallford asking if there was a way to send messages like the bags they gave out for coins. He pointed Harry to the post office on a street perpendicular to Diagon Alley called Angul Alley. Harry purchased two sets of bags that could send messages to each other. He kept two for himself and gave the other two to the Alfers. It would only be used when they needed the other to know something and an owl would take too long. Otherwise, they would expect the school’s owls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finally let Harry get onto the train and eventually they left. He went through his carry-on and found the notebook he’d taken to writing about the dreams in. He’s met the elves at Gringotts, he got a wand, he’d met Professor McGonagall later on in the dream than he did here. He had yet to meet Hagrid. The Dursleys didn’t need to be scared out of their house by owls dropping off letters, though they might have been anyway. He got his letter without any trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the compartment slid open and Harry glanced up to see Ron Weasley looming in the doorway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyone sitting there?” He asked, pointing at the seat opposite. “Everywhere else is full.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry gestured to it and Ron flopped down. He glanced at Harry and then stared out the window, pretending he hadn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The compartment door opened again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Ron,” Fred Weasley said. “We’re going to the middle of the train to see Lee Jordan’s pet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Ron mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry, was it? We didn’t get a chance to introduce ourselves. I’m Fred, that’s George, and the youngest brother Ron’s sitting next to you. Catch you later.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye.” Harry and Ron chorused. The twins left and George was the one to close the compartment door this time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Harry, was it?” Ron prompted. “My mom said she and Dad knew your parents. Who were they?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the Alfers. I’m adopted.” Harry deadpanned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you know your birth parents at all?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Ron said quietly. “I can’t imagine not knowing my mom and dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Alfers are nice enough,” Harry said. “What about your family? You’re obviously not adopted, but are they all Magicians?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty sure. Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we don’t talk about him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he’s a distant relative or because he’s got no magic?” Harry wondered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, both, I guess. We’ve got a pretty full house. So other relatives don’t really come up in conversation or even visit that often unless something big happens.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, three brothers and a sister must be a lot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five.” Ron corrected glumly. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and  Charlie are done with school. Bill was  Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and  George mess around a lot,  but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone  expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new,  either, with five brothers. I’ve  got Bill’s  old robes, Charlie’s  old wand, and Percy’s old rat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry definitely knew what that felt like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a snoozing fat grey rat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His name’s  Scabbers and he’s useless, hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a Prefect, but they couldn’t  aff–  I mean, I got  Scabbers  instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ever get that thing checked out?” Harry asked through gritted teeth, trying his best not to scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was Peter Pettigrew. This was the shapeshifter that got Lily and James Potter killed. Harry could take the rat and squish its head in if he stepped on it hard enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t afford the bills,” Ron admitted soberly. “besides, he’s alright. And it’s not like he’s sick or anything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Missing a claw. An entire finger looks like.” Harry ground out. “Maybe you could take him to Madam Pomfrey when we get there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” Ron offered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence for a while. Occasionally Harry glanced up to enjoy the scenery but mostly he wrote down his favorite parts of the dreams he had and tried not to focus on how fast the train must be going. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Around half-past twelve someone stopped at the door with something heavy on wheels. When the door opened it was to a large cart full of sweets that Harry had absolutely no reference for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything off the trolley, dear?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite having a really good omelet for breakfast, he was craving chocolate something fierce. Besides, this was Magic food. Who knew when he would be able to try this stuff again?! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deciding that he could be picky about what he actually ate later, Harry got two of everything. If he didn’t want it then Ron might. Or maybe someone else would. It was eleven sickles and seven knuts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron stared at the mound of candy Harry brought back and tipped onto the seats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t possibly eat all that.” He gasped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends on how hungry I am. Take what you want, I’m craving chocolate.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron shook his head, holding up a wrapped package that was vaguely square-shaped. Opening it revealed sandwiches, and opening one of those made both Harry Ron wrinkle their noses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Percy’s lunch.” He groaned. “Or George’s. They both love corned beef. My favorites are egg and cress or egg banjo.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Dursleys didn’t like either of those so Harry had never had them before, but he knew that people liked their eggs in various states of cooked, so he just nodded along. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had an omelet for breakfast.” Harry offered. “But like I said, take what you like.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mum’s usually better about the sandwiches. I guess she was a bit more harried now that most of us are off to school. I can’t imagine what she’ll be like next year.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She seems nice.” Harry mused warily, wondering just how well the Weasleys could claim to know the Potters. Did they see him when he was younger like his parents’ other friends?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s nice,” Ron emphasized. “But Fred and George have been on me about my first year, telling me all sorts of weird things. She’s been a bit more strained this year.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, older brothers are weird.” Harry snorted. “Sometimes they give you good advice, but sometimes they sit back and watch you flail.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Better Jaime than Dudley, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron agreed with Harry’s sentiment and the pair worked their way through the pile of sweets. Ron liked the sticky stuff, like jelly beans and licorice. He explained various charms on certain snacks, like how some of the beans were flavored to taste like actual liver. Something he learned the hard way after spitting one out and taking a large swig of a water bottle Harry gave him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chocolate frogs moved. That scared Harry but once the chocolate hit his teeth it stopped. He wasn’t eating actual frogs dipped in chocolate, it was just an enchantment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What card did you get?” Ron asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Card?” Harry asked. “What-?” He wrinkled the package and flipped it upside down. “Oh, you mean this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small trading card that reminded him strongly of Jaime’s football cards fell into his palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re famous Magicians,” Ron said. “I’ve got about five hundred but there are a few, in particular, I’m looking for. What’s yours say?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry scanned the card and Dumbledore’s face looked back at him. This was the first time Harry saw even a picture of the man in the real world after seeing and hearing so much about him from the dreams. His nose definitely looked like it hadn’t been set straight, his hair and beard were longer than the card and a fine white, and his glasses sat on his nose in a way Harry could never get his to do. Probably because his were smaller. Did he need them to see regularly or if they were just reading glasses? Did Magicians have prescriptions or did everyone just fix their eyes? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dumbledore,” Harry said, wondering why the picture took up the whole front of the card. Flipping it over got him the words he was looking for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <span>“Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many to be the greatest magician of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark magician Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and for his work on alchemy with his mentor, Nicholas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling.” </span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last part made Harry laugh. He wasn’t very good at bowling but there was an alley nearby and the Alfers took him enough that he could imagine this old man hurling a fourteen-pound ball down the slick lanes set up at an alley. Harry wondered if Dumbledore had a setup in that office of his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t got Agrippa yet!” Ron complained. Harry glanced up and saw that Ron was onto his fourth one. He had three cards to show for it and was happy to give them to his new friend. Harry tucked them into his pocket, resolving to look at them later.  He tried another two, biting the heads off fiercely to still them, and saw Merlin and someone called Cliodna. They, too, went in his pockets. Ron grumbled about a green jelly bean that turned out to be a sprout of some kind and held out the bag, which was now a third of the way gone. Harry took several, picking through the colors that looked the most harmless and chewing slowly. They turned out to be toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry,  grass,  coffee, sardine, which reminded Harry of the smell of anchovies, and Ron gave him one that he’d eyed warily. Harry only sneezed at it because it was pepper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scenery changed from flat fields to a forest of green, winding rivers, and hills the height of the train. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone knocked on the door and Harry said “not yet.” as he shoved the empty candy wrappers into a pile on the floor and moved the rest onto the seat beside Ron. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in,” He said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville Longbottom had a circular head and wide grey eyes that were puffy with tears He wiped his face with his sleeve, robed in the black Hogwarts gown, and spoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen a toad at all?” He asked. Harry and Ron both shook our heads. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve lost him!” Neville wailed. “He keeps slipping away!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe it will help if you ask an older student to bring the toad to you.” Harry mused aloud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bring Trevor… how would anyone do that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a way to summon things,” Harry muttered, now irritated that he didn’t remember the word. “Can’t remember it for anything. Sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks anyway. I’ll see if anyone else knows.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville closed the door and Ron snorted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know why he’s so bothered.” Ron snickered. “If I’d brought a toad I’d lose it as quick as I could.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least a toad’s on the pet list.” Harry ground out, glaring at Scabbers. The rat didn’t so much as twitch in Ron’s lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I can’t talk since I brought Scabbers,” Ron grumbled. He might have died and you wouldn’t know the difference.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d notice the smell eventually,” Harry offered darkly. This rat didn’t know just how much Harry wanted him to die. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting but the spell didn’t work. Want to see?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded, hoping something bad would happen to the git instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron rifled through his trunk and yanked out a wand that was practically falling apart. It was chipped in places and something white glistened at the end. Upon seeing Harry’s face, Ron grimaced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charlie’s old wand, remember? He’s second-oldest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which meant that wand had seen seven years of use. Possibly more, with how battered it looked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unicorn hair’s nearly poking out. Anyway-.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure you should use that wand.” Harry offered quickly, going through his own bag and handing him the one he’d gotten from Ollivander. Ron took it reverently and with a stunned look on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Harry asked, wondering if he’d done something wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People don’t give each other wands unless they’re family,” Ron explained. “A wand is an extension of yourself. I’m lucky enough that Charlie’s wand works on me, that’s the only reason I’ve got it. I… I can’t-.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would rather you try something with that one than get hurt because you need a new wand, Ron. It’s just one try. Go on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron twitched his hand in a jerky manner and said what sounded like a nursery rhyme. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sunshine daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow.” He scowled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry noticed that those were all yellow things, so if magic was about intent like some of the books he’d read insisted, there was a slight chance of it working. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rat was still very much asleep and Harry couldn’t tell if his fur had changed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” A new voice asked loudly. A girl in Hogwarts robes with bushy brown hair had opened the compartment door. Neville stood not far behind her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Intent plays a pretty big part in magic.” Harry found himself saying. “It could be the spell, it could be that he’s not using his own wand, it could be that the magic isn’t strong enough. One thing in the spell’s favor is that there are three things already yellow in it. Try again, Ron, but think of it this way: what would your rat look like if he were as bright as a dandelion?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron nodded seriously and tried again. Scabbers’ fur took on a weird tinge that was more than the grey it usually was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Harry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, I was going to ask you what you meant when you told Neville about a summoning charm? He asked me about it but I don’t know what he’s talking about.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which is why I said to find an older student. Why don’t I go with you? Ask the boy if he’d be okay sitting with my friend, Ron.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione stared at Harry with a stern look on her face but did it anyway. She and Neville came into the compartment and Neville introduced himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neville Longbottom,” He said gratefully. “Thanks for helping me find my toad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pets are wanderers.” Harry offered, not really knowing why he said that. “C’mon, you-.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione Granger.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, Granger. We’re going to find an older student.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why me and you? Neville’s the one who lost his toad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because she was annoying Ron and Harry didn’t trust her and Neville not to get lost or distracted again. It was a lot better this way, not that she’d ever know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re more likely to get results.” Is all he said in response. Harry knocked on a random compartment and waited for a raspy “come in.” before opening it. Inside sat four kids, one of whom he’d met before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Hufflepuff.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good day, Slytherin-wannabe.” Harry snorted. “Malfoy, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. And you are?” The girl beside him scowled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not important. Would any of you happen to know a way to summon things to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a summoning charm.” The girl said. “My mother used it all the time when we packed for Hogwarts. Say Accio and imagine what you want. Mum says it’s got to be clear in your mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say, Hufflepuff, you never gave us your name.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll find out at the Sorting, won’t you?” Harry snorted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, but-.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Friends call me Wolf,” Harry said. “We’ll see if you get that far after the Sorting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I look forward to collecting on that debt.” Malfoy sneered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll see about that, too.” Harry chirped knowingly. He had resolved to be in whatever House Hermione ended up in. Hopefully, that would be Gryffindor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The compartment door shut behind them and Hermione tapped Harry’s shoulder as they started walking again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” She demanded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I met Malfoy at a robe shop. We bet on which House I’ll end up in because he’s so convinced he’ll be in Slytherin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, why wouldn’t he?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he was gullible enough to take me up on that bet.” Harry deadpanned. “But he’s small potatoes. We need to find someone who knows the Summoning Charm.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’d be me,” A familiar voice crowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or me.” An eerily similar one chirped. The Weasley twins had popped out of absolutely nowhere and Harry was lucky he didn’t flinch and hit one of them. He was getting better at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Fred, hi George.” He grinned at them both. “Follow me, we’re heading back to my compartment now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What could the ickle firsties need a Summoning Charm for?” Fred queried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re looking for a friend’s pet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, and who gave you the idea to use that spell?” George wondered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remembered seeing it in a book I read but couldn’t remember the name.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s quite alright, my friend because we definitely do!” George offered. “What’s the toad’s name?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess we’ll find out once we get back to the compartment. That’s where our friends are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, has ickle Ronnie made a friend already?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s pretty cool,” Harry said defensively. “He turned his rat a bit yellow with that dud spell you gave him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With Charlie’s wand?” Fred asked incredulously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, no,” Harry scoffed. “I gave him mine. And he can keep it until we get to school.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he can’t.” George insisted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m the wand’s owner. I’m saying he can.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you don’t know how wands work. He’ll be giving it right back when we get to that compartment.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my wand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Fred said seriously. “And you don’t know how much it means to just give it away to some nobody.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ron isn’t nobody!” Harry spat, yanking open the compartment door. “He wanted to try a spell and I thought it’d be better if he did it with something that wouldn’t poke our eyes out!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” George said suddenly. “It’s alright. You weren’t… wrong to give Ron your wand, but it’s not often done between strangers. A Magician’s wand is seen as an extension of the self. It’d be like chopping off a finger to lend to a friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bad comparison considering Scabbers was within hearing distance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Harry snorted. “But it kind of worked. Now, can you do the Summoning Charm or not?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course What’s your toad’s name?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trevor.” Neville stammered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George took out his wand and at Fred’s nod, spoke the phrase:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Accio Trevor the Toad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sound not unlike the wind filled the train and when Fred stepped aside, Trevor came straight into Neville’s hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, you should keep your toad on you.” Fred insisted. “Here,” The ginger twin held out an empty brown sack that Harry snagged from them with a grateful nod and tipped over. Nothing came out on his palm and Harry felt nothing but cloth when he stuck his hand in it. Harry passed it to Neville and he slipped Trevor into the bag and drew it semi-closed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name, kid?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neville Longbottom.” Neville stammered out. “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anytime, Neville, good luck with your toad.” George offered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The twins left and the four students settled into the seats in the compartment. Harry noticed the candy was gone, likely stuffed into a bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was all that about wands?” Hermione asked. “And did you honestly make a bet with another student?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I let Ron use my wand for a spell earlier. His brothers took exception to that.” Harry scowled. “It doesn’t matter as much to me, but they did. I just don’t think Ron should be using the wand he was given by his family.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Neville wondered. “My grandmother gave me my Dad’s wand. It works well enough for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, are you and your father exactly alike?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gran sure hopes so.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even identical twins, like Fred and George, aren’t. It’s good that your wands are compatible, but that’s probably because you’re family with the people who have already used it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure are taking this seriously.” Ron noticed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Harry told him about the trip to Ollivander’s, about how it felt like a million wands to go through, about how the holly wands had been compatible but not exactly right, and Ollivander had insisted that Harry keep trying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I felt wretched after a huge pile of wands that didn’t work or barely produced a spark. You’ll be a lot better off with a wand that fits you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the spell worked with your wand. Who’s to say it wouldn’t have worked with Charlie’s?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess we aren’t to say.” Hermione offered. “But maybe the teachers at school can tell us. Speaking of spells, I’ve tried a few, just for practice, and they all worked for me. Nobody in my family is magic at all, so it was quite a shock to get an </span>
  <em>
    <span>owl</span>
  </em>
  <span> on our window!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was lucky enough that my aunt knew something of it,” Harry admitted, glad he didn’t stutter over the not-quite-lie. “I honestly called it Hogwash when I first got the letter. Non-Magicians don’t know all this exists and I was no exception.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you’re a magician.” Ron insisted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So’s Hermione. Doesn’t mean we knew about it beforehand.” He said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough. Say, Mum said she and Dad knew your family, but you never did say your last name.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s bad enough you know my first name. Just call me Wolf. Everyone will if I have any say on it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we guess?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want. Harry is a common name.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure is, but you underestimate how few kids there are this year.” Neville offered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’s that?” Harry asked, wondering how much of this would match up with the dreams he’d been having.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodness, you don’t know?” Hermione gasped. “The Magicians had a war amongst themselves. It’s in every book I could get my hands on. There was this Dark Lord everyone calls You-Know-Who and he came out of basically nowhere and was all anti-humans and so the Magical World split itself up into his followers and his opponents. Apparently, he was defeated by a couple of young Magicians who left behind their baby boy. Now the kid’s known as the Boy-Who-Lived so he and his parents are celebrated every Halloween.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why Halloween?” Harry prompted knowingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because that’s when they died,” Neville mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least some parts of the story changed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Modern Magical History</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great Magical  Events of the Twentieth Century</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Hermione reported. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll pick those up, I guess.” Harry offered, kind of interested now. “What did they do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The young Magicians. What did they do for a living?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean once they got out of school? They fought in the war.” Neville said. “They knew my parents rather well, or so my grandmother says.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think they got a chance to do anything once they got out of school?” Harry asked. “What </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> there to do once you get out of school?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… I don’t think so.” Ron offered. “My Mum and Dad fought against You-Know-Who as well, and Dad said he got his job at the Ministry  after the war.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Harry said, a bit shocked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As for what there is to do, my two oldest brothers are Bill and Charlie. Charlie handles dragons in Romania-.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, that is so cool.” Harry blurted out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Bill’s in Africa doing something for one of the Gringotts branches there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where in Africa? That’s a whole continent. It’d be like saying ‘Oh, he lives in Europe.’ as opposed to saying Spain or Italy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough. I think he does work in Egypt. There’s a lot of stuff Magical stuff in Egypt. It’s only fair that Gringotts would want to know what.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of Gringotts,” Neville spoke suddenly. “You guys haven’t gone there too recently, have you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I went about a month ago.” Harry offered. “McGonagall took me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione confirmed the same and Ron said that his father went before Harry and the Alfers did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s got you so spooked?” Harry asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone tried to rob a high-security vault,” Ron announced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At Gringotts?” Harry coughed. “The bank full of non-human magical creatures, mostly elves, and no one gets in or out unless they say so?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s more than just elves,” Hermione said suddenly. “I saw dwarves as well.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool. What happened to the unlucky bastard who tried to pull that off?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. Nobody got caught. My dad says they must have been a powerful Dark Magician to pull that off, but there wasn’t any mention of what was stolen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps Gringotts is trying to investigate for themselves.” Hermione offered. “I know that regular banks do that. They work with the police sometimes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” Ron agreed. “But everyone wants to know. They’re all scared when something big happens since it could be related to You-Know-Who.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Related to the guy who was defeated by two Magicians fresh out of school and maybe half his age?” Harry drawled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, no one knows where he went.” Ron insisted defensively. “And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not find out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We would if Voldemort was Quirrell. But Harry couldn’t tell them that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your Quidditch team?” Ron prompted in an obvious attempt to change the subject. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s Quidditch?” Hermione asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron burst into a rousing speech of the game played on broomsticks. It was a long explanation of how seven players hauled four balls between them. Ron talked about everything he knew, from famous games to games he’d been to and the most coveted broomsticks of the year. Neville inserted a few of his own opinions and eventually, the boys were debating the best teams while Harry and Hermione stared at them. She was likely just as confused as Harry was. He’d seen some things about Quidditch in his dreams and dream-Harry had definitely liked the sport, but Harry was a bit too focused on all the tragedies happening around him to focus on the school’s sport.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A voice echoed through the train, calling ten minutes to Hogwarts and not to worry about their bags. Ron and Neville jerked to their feet mid-argument. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, Wolf, let’s let Hermione change, and then we’ll get changed.” Ron offered, dragging Neville and Harry out of the compartment without so much as missing a beat in his explanation of why the Chudley Canons might go onto the Quidditch World Cup in three years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Hermione was done, they switched places, with her waiting just outside the compartment as Neville showed Harry and Ron how to wear their robes properly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The robes draped down to Harry’s feet and Ron’s almost did the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The train eventually stopped and the four of them were swept along with the crowd that pushed off the train and onto a small nearly pitch-black platform. Harry fought the urge to shiver, wishing he’d gotten Jaime to tell him the heating charm people used on their clothes. He’d find it in some books, he was sure, but it would be extremely useful now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lamp bounced up and down like a tight-knit group of fireflies above our heads, cutting through some of the gloom. With it came a large booming voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First-years, this way!” A man’s roar parted the crowd like the Red Sea. “First-years follow me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The path was slick with mossy water, steep and narrow enough that we had to file after the large man one-by-one. Harry was honestly surprised that the man, who must be Hagrid based on his massive stature and gruff-growly voice, was able to keep his balance as he guided them up what felt like a mountain. Rock-climbing at the nearby gym had offered Harry enough chances that he could say with complete honesty that they were definitely climbing a mountain. It was just as steep and narrow with just as many chances to fall and send everyone tumbling down before or after him. What’s worse is that they stumbled forward in complete darkness. Harry had to rely on his sense of direction, which was practically nothing, to make sure he wasn’t bumping into anyone. Luckily, the people around him were people he figured wouldn’t be too terrible about his flailing. He hoped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hogwarts School of Magic coming right up!” Hagrid called eagerly. “Just around the bend here!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, the kids who were further ahead were shouting in excitement. When the kids closest to Harry got to the end of the path, everyone stood before a large black lake that, if it weren’t for the occasional ripple, he wouldn’t be able to tell the water from the inky darkness. What he could tell is that he was right about being in the mountains. On the other side of the lake, a lot higher than where he stood now was a massive spanning castle. Its windows sparkled like glittering eyes among the darkness and for each ground-level window was a string of lights higher than he could crane his neck. The outline of the castle followed shortly after, once his eyes adjusted, revealing that some of the glittering lights were indeed the stars above the windows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No more than four to a boat!” Hagrid called, jerking Harry out of his stupor. He swung the lantern toward a fleet of small boats sitting in the water by the shore. Ron, Neville, Hermione, and Harry went to a boat. Hagrid swept through the crowd to make sure everyone got to a boat and bellowed for the boats to move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And move they did. Harry knows magic has to have a lot of intent behind it but does this work on anyone? Could he move the boats if he knew the words? Was it a job only for Hagrid? Because these were a lot of boats and since Hagrid is pretty big, Harry bet he could do it but-.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a lot of questions, Wolf.” Neville offered, wide-eyed. “With a mind like that, you’ll get into Ravenclaw for sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t matter what House he gets into. He’ll be doing enough exploring to know them all. He couldn’t afford to miss something just because he was too wrapped up in what he thought he knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heads down!” Hagrid’s voice carried well over the water and Harry ducked instinctively, as did the other three. They were sailing along the face of a giant cliff and the reason they were told to duck is to go through it, a tunnel introduced by a curtain of ivy. The tunnel was just as dark as the steep mossy mountain-path that had brought the students to the boats and the way things echoed made him think they were underground. The boat ride ended underground as well, and Harry followed the others on a passageway that was seemingly carved from the cliffside. The students walked for a while, with the only thing Harry could see ahead being Hagrid’s lamp until his feet met damp flattened grass of a courtyard in the shadow of the castle. Finally, they reached the door, a tall solid sprawling tree of a thing that rumbled against Harry’s feet when Hagrid knocked on it. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The door swung open moments after his last knock and Professor McGonagall waited for us with her usual stern look on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The first-years. Professor.” Hagrid announced, stepping aside so the flood of students could walk through the wide door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Entrance Hall was so big you could fit the first floor of Harry’s primary school in it. The walls flickered with torches that gave off no heat if the students closest to them gave any indication. The ceiling was as high as the sky and an egg-blue marble staircase facing them led to what was likely the upper floors. McGonagall led us across a floor that looked like it had squares carved out of it. It wasn’t nearly as dark here and Harry heard the crush of voices that usually accompanied a full cafeteria.  The incoming students were packed into a smaller empty room that had them crowding closer than anyone liked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall began. She talked about the start-of-term banquet and how Houses worked. She gave some flattery about how each House had noble histories and how following or breaking the rules would affect our House’s points. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cast an amused gaze over several students who ruffled under her stern expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She left through the same large door the students would likely be going through and all Harry could think is that he could never do that. Too much attention was a terrible thing and this would not end well, especially since he still had no idea which House he would be in. He could end up in Gryffindor and go along with the rest of the adventures Harry had in his dreams. He could be a Hufflepuff like Malfoy thought. Maybe he’d be better able to save Diggory that way. Neville thought he’d be good for Ravenclaw since he muttered a lot and asked a lot of questions. There was also the extremely slim chance, one that Harry would fight against the entire time, that he would end up in Slytherin. All he can say to that is that the godsforsaken hat better not put him in a House full of pompous gits who would want him dead for some reason or another. None of them would last long if he were put in Slytherin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Screams of terror jerked Harry out of his thoughts and he fought the urge to bolt as translucent figures streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and floating a few feet above our heads, they glided across the room, chattering excitedly and not sparing any of us a glance. Harry picked out two in particular, who were talking rather viciously about a third. One of them, a short squat balding monk was saying “forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dear Friar, we’ve given Peeves all the chances he’ll get. He gives us all a bad name and quite honestly, he’s not even a full ghost-. I say! What are you all doing here?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Friar’s companion wore a ruffled collar and striped tights and gazed confusedly at our group. Nobody answered. If Harry had to guess, they were either scared of the ghosts or scared they would say the wrong thing. Likely a mixture of both. Bile swirled in the back of his throat and the burning sensation forced him to swallow loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They must be new students!” The Friar offered wryly. “Time goes so fast these days, it seems like just last month there were others doing this very same thing. Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” The Friar crowed cheerfully. “You’ll make plenty of friends there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Move along, now,” came McGonagall’s sharp voice. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to begin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the ghosts had floated away, she turned to us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Single-file and follow me.” She ordered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry couldn’t see Ron, Neville, or Hermione. He couldn’t even make out Malfoy, for all his crassness. He was suddenly squished between two people as he newcomers shuffled forward anxiously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Great Hall was downright cavernous and it took everything Harry had to keep going as he gaped at the enormity of it all. There were candles everywhere, the ceiling continued to be non-existent, like in the room before the waiting chamber, four room-length tables filled with other students weren’t far away. The plates and goblets were currently empty and he wondered if that meant no one was allowed to eat yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of eating, what would he be eating?! He was particular about the things he ate, borne from years of cooking at the Dursleys. He hadn’t wanted to eat anything that they would, and while the Alfers had been nice enough to accommodate, would Hogwarts?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That thought was swept away by a tide of anxiousness as he noticed that the others were staring at the new students, observing as if they were trying to make head or tails of the first-years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A  scraping sound caught Harry’s ears and now McGonagall was standing in front of where the teachers sat, with some of the first students in line. She’d placed a tall stool with four rickety legs and an ancient-looking frayed black Magician’s hat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry knew the Sorting Hat would sing, but he wasn’t really prepared for the thing to open at the bottom and wail out the song. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It drawled on in a cheerful baritone about not judging books, or people, or hats, really, by their covers and how the Houses had their attributes. It was trying to reassure them, but it wasn’t working on Harry. He felt like a fraud. There was no way he would live up to the reputation he had in his dreams and there was no way he would make it into any of these Houses. They might as well send him home. He really wanted to go home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song finished and people clapped. Harry tilted his head back, blinking a few times. It was a good way to make sure no one saw him cry and it was an even better way to make sure no one saw the look on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall held a long scroll, likely with everyone’s names on it, and told us what to expect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry had to focus. He had to pick out the names of the people he knew and perhaps that would be the thing that helped him figure out where to go. This was real now, and not everything goes according to his dreams. Neville could end up in Hufflepuff, Hermione could be in Ravenclaw, Ron could be in Slytherin. Or Hermione could be in Slytherin and Ron in Ravenclaw, strategist that he was. They all could be in Gryffindor, like in his dreams. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So far, things seemed to be going along with the dreams. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s up!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sped towards the had and held it almost reverently between her hands, placing it gingerly on her head once she sat down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gryffindor!” The hat called. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next person Harry paid attention to was Neville. He tripped on the way over and was something of a hat-stall. Harry imagined the hat figured he could be in Hufflepuff as well as Gryffindor, but it would be nice to have everyone in the same place if only so Harry could keep track of them as various events started to unfold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy was a Slytherin. Harry didn’t expect much of anything else. He said that he was free to choose, but was he really? He knew that if he got into Gryffindor it will be because he’s begging the hat to let him follow Hermione and Neville. Malfoy will likely be doing the same, only he’ll ask to follow in his parents’ footsteps instead of a friend’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hufflepuff. Slytherin. Ravenclaw. Gryffindor. Hufflepuff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get this over with,” Harry muttered more to himself than anyone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Wolf, I do believe it’s your turn!” Professor McGonagall called out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry thanked every star in the sky and all the gods he could think of that she didn’t call out his full name. It would take some getting used to, not hearing that name associated with fear and pain and anger from his dreams. But Wolf was easier. Wolf was his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, that didn’t stop people from talking. Those closest to Harry were curious as to why he was allowed to go by a single name when none of them were. He forced himself to walk slowly even though all he wanted was to sprint to the Hat and get it over with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pretty soon, the hat was on and the voice that sang about unity was speaking his thoughts to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>I need to follow Hermione and Neville.</b>
  <span> Harry thought clearly. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Such blatant loyalty to children you barely know.</em>
  </b>
  <span> The hat crooned. </span>
  <b>
    <em>You could do well in Hufflepuff. Make friends. Proper friends who will like you for who you are and not… who you think you should be.</em>
  </b>
  
</p><p>
  <b>I know where I belong… in theory. In practice, there’s going to be a lot happening this year and things will go a lot better for everyone if you let me follow Hermione and Neville. </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry had experience being the weird one in school. They could both use a friend. Some encouragement. They need to know that they’ll grow up and do just fine. Harry can’t do that from Hufflepuff. They’d be eaten alive and so would he. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Then again, such introspectiveness and a thirst for knowledge are Ravenclaw traits. Of course, loyalty is also a rather Gryffindor trait and the straight-forwardness on display will suit you well there.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Please </span>
  <b>let me help them. I can be strong and brave or whatever, just let me help them. Put me in Gryffindor.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you’re sure… better be GRYFFINDOR!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smattering of applause ensued and Harry went to go sit with the rest of the Lions, some of who saw him on the train and waved in welcome. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Wolf, why’d the Professor skip your name?” Fred wondered from between his brothers, a few seats down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No clue.” Harry offered honestly. “But it was pretty cool of her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you not like your name or something?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It… it doesn’t always feel like my name,” Harry confessed, not willing to say anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome, young one.” The ghost in the ruffled collar and striped tights offered their congratulations and pat his shoulder, which suddenly felt like it had been holding ice on a sprain for too long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry thanked him awkwardly and turned his attention to the staff table. Hagrid sat at the end, beaming proudly as if he’d known Harry forever. Dumbledore was front and center in a large golden chair that must have some great back support for how ramrod straight it was. Quirrel was on the other side of the table and Harry was glad to have him as far away as possible. That giant headwrap did him no good, but Harry figured people would ask too many questions if he just walked around plain as day with Voldemort sticking off the back of his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa Turpin got sorted into Ravenclaw, Ron ended up in Gryffindor, Blaise Zabini was a Slytherin. And that was the end of the Sorting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dumbledore got to his feet and addressed the crowd,  beaming like a proud grandfather and looking for all the world like he would give each and every one of us a hug if he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome!” He said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words and they are: Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak. Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat back down and Harry snorted, amused yet frustrated. Four words, likely one for each House. Likely synonyms for something he wanted them to know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Let’s see… oddment sounds like “odd one out.” a leftover. To tweak means to change. Blubber could mean either the extra fat that seals use to hibernate or excessive crying. Nitwit generally means stupid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not synonyms, they’re antonyms.” The ghost informed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just about to get there.” Harry offered, annoyed. “Wait… I said all that aloud?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you did. Smart one, you are. Lucky we snatched you from Ravenclaw.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just theories based on the words that could be 100% wrong. I don’t pretend to know the inner workings of that guy’s mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Harry didn’t ever want to. </span>
</p>
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